


Instincts of spring

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon GO
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Clothed Sex, Desk Sex, Dubious Consent, Glove Kink, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Sex Pollen, but by god does willow try
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Spark has a fever only Professor Willow can fix.





	Instincts of spring

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in one go, between 11:30 pm - 4:00 am. it's unbeta'd and more or less an excuse for my newest hopeless rarepair.  
> also my back hurts from scrunching over my computer like a fic-writing witch for four hours.  
> It is a dubious consent fic, but damn does Willow try.

 

* * *

* * *

It was a quiet day for Professor Willow, with no large tasks remained for him to do and every Pokémon in his care had been tended to. He’d checked the eggs in the incubators in the morning, then lacking anything else to do he had wandered back through and rechecked them in the afternoon.

It was on his way back from the office kitchen, hot mug of coffee in hand, that Professor Willow’s day became distinctly _less_ quiet.

The door to the Pokémon center slammed open, bell jangling an anxious chorus as somebody clung to the frame. Professor Willow turned, alarmed at the sound. When he saw Spark clinging to the door, looking like he’d fallen down a hill, twigs in his hair and rips in his clothes; the professor hastily placed his mug down and rushed to Spark’s side.

“Spark! Spark, what happened? Are you injured?” Asked Professor Willow, reaching out to support the distressed Instinct leader. Spark flinched at his touch, jerking away and let out a soft low noise. He curled forward, bringing the arm Willow had touched tight to his chest, and turned his face away. He was shaking, Willow realized.

 “…Spark?”

  Tentatively, he reached out again, slowly this time so the trainer could feel the heat of his hand well before he touched him- Spark still flinched when he smoothed his hand over Spark’s blonde hair, then leaned into his touch. With a wordless noise of distress, the Instinct leader pushed away from the door, grabbing Willow by the front of his jacket and hide his face against the professor’s chest, pulling the lab coat close to his face as if to himself from Professor Willow.

Truly worried now, Willow wrapped his arms loosely around Spark, giving up after only one half-hearted try to pry the younger trainer away so he could look at him. He sighed, rubbing awkward circles over Spark’s shoulder blades.

 “Alright, it’s okay, you’re okay. You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong, Spark. You’re burning up.” Coaxed Professor Willow.

 Spark hesitated, then shook his head.

“… _can’t.”_

His voice was faint, scratchy as if he’d been coughing. He shook his head again,  and pressed his face against Professor Willow hard enough to be uncomfortable.

“S- _Spark, stop that_ , you’re a team leader. You need to act like one.” Professor Willow had to take a step back as he spoke, Spark was pushing so hard.  He grabbed the trainer by his shoulders, and physically pried him off. Spark struggled against him, but they ended up with the length of Professor Willow’s arms between them, and he got his first good look at the trainer.

A hot flush covered Spark’s face, sweat dotting his hairline. His lips were dark, swollen like he’d bitten them. The flush crawled down his neck, to the sliver of his chest visible in the dip of his shirt. As he watched, Spark bit his lips; teeth pulling the delicate skin so the colour ran out, only to rush back in. He was panting, his fisted hands loosening and clenching on the lapels of Professor Willow’s lab coat.

He was also quite hard.

Spark’s erection pressed against his tight leather pants, giving no way to miss it. He shifted under Professor Willow’s scrutiny – not to cover up, as he would have thought, but to spread his legs, cant  his hips forward.

Then the younger trainer moaned miserably, and curled back in on himself, hands shaking. His head dropped forward and he panted as he seemed to fight for control. Professor Willow could feel the heat coming off him.

He knew this was a fragile situation. In all honestly, he wasn’t sure what Spark wanted from him, or why he had come here, but the trainer was burning up, and all the leather he loved to encase himself in was insulating him instead of letting the heat escape.

“Explain in your own time, Spark. Let’s get you changed into something a bit more appropriate for a fever.” He said softly,  pulling Spark inside,  and against his chest again.

 He let the trainer huddle against him, as he shut the door, and flip the sign to _‘EMERGENCIES ONLY’_  and flip the lock. If another emergency came up, they could use the buzzer. Spark made a soft noise that was much closer to a moan when Willow ran his hand soothing up and down the trainer’s spine, so he didn’t do that again.

Despite his efforts, he couldn’t get Spark very far. Given the state he was in, he was impressed he’d made it this far, since each step seemed to make him hotter and more uncoordinated; he was shivering and sweating by the time Willow got him to his office. Resigned, he helped him into a chair.

“I’m going to take your jacket, shoes, and pants. You’ll have your shirt, underwear, and socks, and I can leave you my coat while I get you a blanket.”  Even as he spoke, the professor was pretty sure Spark wasn’t actually listening.  He was leaning back in the chair with his eyes tight shut, visibly restraining himself from humping the air.

 _This isn’t going to end well_ , Willow thought, squatting down to pull off one of Spark’s shoes, then the other. His socks were gross, so he took those off too, balling them together and stuffing them in one of the trainer’s shoes before setting them aside. He sat back on his haunches to consider how to tackle the rest of it, to see Spark struggling out of his jacket- a cuff was caught on his glove, and before the trainer could get too frustrated Professor willow caught his wrist, and tugged off his orange glove. He laid it on top of his shoes, and waited for Spark to finish, before claiming the other glove.

Spark was impossibly hot, gravitating to his touch like a flower leaning towards the sun.

“Spark. Spark.”

Willow waited this time until Spark cracked an eye open, just a sliver of blue visible against the blown black of his pupil.

“Take off you pants, Spark.” 

The trainer’s hips bucked forward at his words, and his head fell back as he covered his mouth, trying to smoother the moan.

“D-Don’t say it like that, Professor,” Spark whimpered, his erection pushing harder against his tight pants in contradiction to his words.

Professor Willow sighed. He had a good idea of what had happened to Spark, and from his symptoms Spark had likely tried to ‘solve’ the issue, which had only made things worse for him.

“I have to pull them by the ankles, Spark. They’re leather, and you’re a sweaty messy. I can physically cut the seams if you’d prefer.” It might have been the wrong thing to say; Spark clutched at the arms of his desk chair, eyes screwed up tight as his hips jumped.

Then he help up a hand,

“W-wait, wait. I l-like these pants,” panted Spark, and eyes shut tight he pulled his pants open, tugging his erection free with a groan of relief that the professor _felt_. Wisely, Spark didn’t linger in his relief, yanking his pants down to mid thigh in  one go. Willow ignored  that Sparks hand had gone to his dick the _second_ he’d finished pulling down his pants, and finished yanking them off his legs. He folded them loosely, unsure how to deal with the sweat and cum soaked leather, and settled on just setting them beside Spark’s shoes.

Spark was working himself into a frenzy, agitated noises spilling from his mouth as he bucked into his hand, but no relief came. His face tight with misery, dark flush rising up his neck. Professor Willow made his mind up before he’d fully considered what he was doing, and knocked Spark’s hand’s away from his erection.

He leaned in, pushing the younger trainer’s legs apart, and kept his hands on his thighs as he took his cock into his mouth, feeling the heat as the swollen head settled against his tongue. He bobbed down, holding Spark’s hips firmly in place, and sucked.

Spark _screamed,_ and came immediately. Professor Willow pulled back, stroking his thighs soothingly, and spat the cum to the side. He wiped the wetness from his own mouth, and looked up at Spark, still squatting between his legs.

The trainer was breathing hard, blinking up at the ceiling. His erection hadn’t flagged at all, but the frantic edge to his movements was gone. When he tipped his head down to meet Willow’s eyes, his gaze was remarkably lucid.

“That-”

“Was necessary. Didn’t anyone tell you masturbation will make you go blind?” the joke was a little flat given the circumstances, but Spark huffed a surprised laugh.

“’s hairy palms.” He smiled weakly at Professor Willow. “Professor, what’s happening?”

 Something in Willow’s chest cracked at the scared, vulnerable waver in Spark’s voice. He squeezed his knees reassuringly, trying to ignore the way Spark’s legs fell open at his touch.

“You must have ran across a sick  Roselia, or at least the fresh trail of one. It’s unusual, but sometimes when they become sick their pollen can change quite significantly. In this case, it seems to be-” Professor Willow floundered,  not wanting to actually _say_ it.

“Sex Pollen?” finished Spark. He was smirking, despite the colour rising in his face. The heat was return to his skin, rising up off him more as they spoke.

Professor Willow ducked his head, thumbing his nose. “Yeah. Sex pollen.”  He admitted after a moment.

Spark gestured down to his erection, poking out of the top of his underwear.

“And this?” he asked.

“Well, it’s a … bad case. Spark, you aren’t capable of consent right now, and afterwards you’re going to feel very…” Professor Willow trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the words. 

“Professor.”

Professor Willow looked up, and froze. Spark had one hand under his shirt, rucking the bright fabric up his stomach as his played with his own nipple. His other hand was occupied with his cock; wrapped firmly around it, not moving, precum dripping down the dark crown. Spark waited a moment, holding Willow’s eyes, then slowly let his legs fall open.

“Please, fuck me.” Spark said slowly, a flush- no, a blush spreading across his face.

Professor Willow hesitated for a long moment, and Spark gasped out a broken, “ _Please!_ ”

Slowly he stood. From his full height, Willow regarded Spark.

“My rules. The bare minimum you need. You _will_ regret it tomorrow, Spark. I know how this feels now, but tomorrow you won’t feel the same.” He warned, then held a hand out for the trainer. Spark didn’t need another invitation. He let Willow pull him up, and flush to his chest, groaning into the professor’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around Spark’s back, and his other hand around his straining dick.

Spark clutched him, going up on his toes, and cursed. The leather of Willow’s gloves dragged over his dick, catching the glands ever pump. The seams on the insides of his fingers made Spark see stars, and although neither of them had thought of it, his cock was pumping out more then enough precum to act as slick. With a shout, he came without warning into Willow’s gloved hand.

Without giving him a moment to breathe, the professor spun Spark around, and bent him over the desk behind them. He panted into the stained wood, held in place by a firm hand at the nape of his neck, as the draw beside his hip was opened, rummaged through, then shut. He heard a click, and cool liquid poured onto his hot crack. Spark jumped at the contact, then moaned as Willow held him down firmer.

They were past the point of talking. A leather clad finger slid through the slick, then between his asscheeks. The professor wasted no time, swirling around his hole once, twice, then pushing his gloved finger inside. Spark groaned low and long, trying to push back against his hand.

Then there was a second gloved finger pushing into him, seams strange against his innerwalls, and Professor Willow was moving his fingers _in and out, in and out_ , fucking Spark with his hand and Spark was coming undone.

He ground his dick against the edge of the desk, felt the drool on the desk under his face. Could hear a loud, undulating noise- him, he realized dimly. He was moaning.

“You like the gloves, huh.” said Professor Willow, scissoring his fingers apart, and fucking them back in. there was heat in his voice now, heat in his actions as he knocked Spark’s ankles farther apart. In response, the trainer ground back on his hand.

The noise Spark made when the older man removed his fingers was pure lose. But Willow smoothed a hand down Spark’s back, soothing him, as he tugged on the ties of his pants, working them down low enough to free his cock. He could feel guilty later about how hard he was, right now he took a moment to appreciate the sight Spark made, as he poured slick on his hand.

The instinct leader was sprawled over the desk, ass in the air, on his toes in an attempt to grind his weeping erection into the surface of Willow’s desk. His tight underwear were on the floor, and slick slid down his legs like his body was drooling for Willow’s cock. Again, Willow smoothed a hand up Spark’s back, enjoying the way he curved into his touch, and left the man’s shirt rucked up as he returned his grip to the back of his neck. 

He parted his cheeks with his thumb, holding the head of his cock against Spark’s hole, and waited until he tried to move back against him before breeching him- slowly. Spark felt like time was crawling as his hole stretched thick hard heat pressing into him and he clutched at the table, almost sobbing. The thick head of Willow’s cock popped in, and they both groaned.

“You’re too tight. Try to breathe, Spark.” Said Willow, his own voice ragged. He began to thrust, shallow little fucking motions that had Spark clutching at the table as each one forced the professor deeper into his sensitive, twitching body. Finally, he felt Willow pressed firm against his ass, and they both paused, panting.

The professor’s clothed legs pressed against the bare insides of Spark’s thighs, his lab coat brushing the outsides of his legs. The professor was hovering over him, hand firm on the back of his neck, other hand cured on his hip.

Willow brew out slowly, leaving Spark shuddering, then thrust into him hard and set a brutal pace from there on. Willow dragged him back by his hips into each fuck, grunting with effort, and soon he was hunched over Spark, untangling the gloved hand he had clenched in Spark’s hair. He grabbed him by both hips and yanked Spark back, dragging him until he was on his own feet again, and the professor could reach between him and the desk, and grab Spark’s cock. He tugged at it out of sync with his thrusts, and after no more then three thrusts Spark was coming.

A soft huff in his ear, “ Yeah, it’s the gloves.” Willow sounded smug.  He was so close now that every damp pant of his breathe Spark felt, the sweat the gathered along his jaw dripped directly onto Spark’s skin.

Spark drifted in a soft daze, almost there now. Willow was a solid weight against his back now, pressing him into the table, and Spark had his hands dug into the backs of Willow’s thighs, trying to get _more_.

Willow freed a hand to grab the edge of the desk above Spark’s head, keeping a hand on his shoulders to keep him down. Every thrust made his cock ache.

It was no good, Willow was going to come before Spark was finished. But he could at least try. But with the way he was twitching around him, it wasn’t going to work. He pulled out all the way, then thrust back in- and Spark clenched down so hard that Willow saw white.

He fucked Spark through his orgasm, leaning down and breaking his own self imposed rule not to, and pressed hot, sloppy kisses to the back of Spark’s neck, along his shoulder blades as he shot his seed inside the younger man.

“ _Fuck, fuck,_ ” Spark whimpered, writhing under him, cock still unbearably hard.

“Don’t worry, sweet, I’m not done.” Willow shushed Spark, still trying to catch his breath. He pulled out, his cum drooling down Spark’s leg. Before the trainer could protest, Willow pushed three fingers into him.

Spark was looser now, lubed and well fucked, and they moved easily. The instinct leader shuddered at the feeling, pushing back against his hand.

“More, more, I need more,” Spark panted, desperate.

Willow shifted his stance, leaning down over Spark to kiss his shoulder.

“Stop fighting it, Spark. I want to see you come apart,” Willow whispered into his damp skin, running his teeth along the bone at the top of his shoulder. Spark shook underneath him, panting open mouthed.

_Just a little bit more.  
_

Willow kissed Sparks neck,  large wet kissed, and reached for Sparks cock as he started to fuck with his fingers.

The combination of stimuli, hot leather covered in oil moving in and out of his ass, fingers curling to drag along his most sensitive parts, and stroking his cock was _almost_ enough.  Spark raced for it, pulse thundering, mouth dry from his rapid breathes. But he just _couldn’t get there -!_

“Come for me.” Willow whispered.

And Spark came, back arching, body clenching, hips stuttering. He came screaming Professor Willow’s name as he clamped down on the man’s fingers and painted his hand. 

And then he slumped against the table, blacking right out.

 

* * *

* * *

 

It felt like a coffee grinder had been turned on in his head. Spark groaned, cradling his head. Slowly, he registered the strange bed; it was larger then his own, with nicer linens. He was dressed in a sweats and a t-shirt, and his feet were warm.

Opening his eyes reluctantly, Spark blinked blurrily at Professor Willow, seated in a chair and scribbling away in a notebook not far away from the bed. He had changed his clothes, into something loose fitting an comfortable.

“….We had sex on your desk.” He said mussily, yawning.  

The professor started, closing his notes, and standing warily.

“How are you feeling, Spark?” He asked.

“Like your dick should come with a warning label. ‘oversized load.’ “ Spark rubbed at his face, and sat up slowly, not entirely enjoying the ache in his back. When he lowered his hand, he noticed Professor Willow was staring at him like he’d just hit him in the face with a mudkip with no warning.

“What?” Spark asked Willow.

“Are you, “ Willow gestured vaguely, “…Okay?”

Spark glanced down, then back up at the professor. His brow crinkled. “…Yes? Willow, it was sex, not major surgery.”

Willow had taken a few hesitant steps closer to the bed, and now carefully sat on the edge near Spark’s feet.

“Spark, are you okay with this? You don’t need to be, you’re allowed to be upset. “

Spark was shaking his head before Willow had finished speaking. He patted the bed beside him.

“The only thing I’m upset about is that you’re not in here to.  Come to bed, Willow,” He said softly. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Willow hesitated for a moment, before nodding. Spark turned down the covers, and scooted over. Still frowning, the professor hesitated at the edge of the bed.

“We… we’ll talk about this? Right? “ he asked, uncertainty colouring his voice and darkening his eyes. Spark felt a warm flicker in his heart, and bit back a smile, nodding.

It was Spark that tugged Willow into bed. And Spark that pushed him down into the pillows.

It was Spark who kissed him softly, running his hand through Willow’s hair. And felt him crack under him, the hesitance and fear break and crumble. 

He fell asleep that night with his fingers threaded into Willows hair, and their legs tangled together.

 


End file.
